


The Strangler's Revenge

by TheOfficeholic



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Death, F/M, Infidelity, Loss of Parent(s), Major Original Character(s), Murder, References to Depression, Sad Ending, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:20:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOfficeholic/pseuds/TheOfficeholic
Summary: A fateful phone call. A new generation. An old lover returns. A murderer's revenge. A woman's search for love, but in vain. What more is in store?
Relationships: Angela Martin/Dwight Schrute, Erin Hannon/Pete Miller, Holly Flax/Michael Scott, Jan Levinson/Michael Scott, Jim Halpert/Kelly Kapoor, Pam Beesly/Jim Halpert, Ryan Howard/Kelly Kapoor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	The Strangler's Revenge

It was the year 2020, a regular day in Austin, Texas. A 10-year-old girl sat at the kitchen table, her mind occupied with the math homework strewn all over her desk, covered with doodles of boredom. She had a round, youthful face, sapphire blue eyes, and mousy brown curls falling delicately on her shoulders.

“Oh my god, you can’t be serious!” the girl turned around to see where the voice was coming from and saw her frazzled mother on the phone, a look of disbelief on her face. “Yeah, I will,” the mother responded to her unknown caller. “He’ll be back from work soon. God, I can’t believe it.”

She hung up and tucked her phone away in her pocket, still looking surprised, and even scared.

“What is it, Mom?” the girl asked, tucking a curl behind her ear.

“Cece, remember how we used to live in Scranton until you were about 4, 5 years old?” she asked in response.

Cece hesitated. “Vaguely,” she said. “Why?”

“Our boss back there - your dad and mine - he just _died.”_

“What?” Cece’s eyes widened, now looking almost as frazzled as her mother.

“Yeah. Michael Scott. He was murdered by the Scranton Strangler.”

“I thought they caught him?”

The mother shook her head and looked down at her feet, her green eyes looking soulless as an extinguished flame. “I guess they got the wrong guy. What time is it, baby?”

“It’s 4:45,” Cece responded, looking back at her homework. 

“I’m gonna go to my room to lie down for a bit,” said the mother, eyes beginning to well up with tears. “Come and get me when your dad comes home, okay?” With that said, she turned on a heel and left the room, leaving Cece alone with only her thoughts.

 _Murdered…_ she thought, feeling a strange, fearful tingle on the back of her neck. Had she ever known someone who was murdered? She didn’t really _know_ Michael - not since she was a baby, at least. Was it bad that she didn’t feel sympathetic?

About half an hour later, Cece heard a car pull up in their driveway. Her head perked up as her dad entered the house.

“Hey, Cece,” he said with a smile. “Do you know where your mom is?”

“Yeah, she’s in her room,” Cece said nonchalantly. “I think she might be crying. Someone died.”

“What? Who?” his happy expression quickly left his face.

“Ask her,” Cece replied, highly doubting he would believe her if she told him.

“Okay, I’ll check on her… hey, did you do any homework?”

“I dunno, it was hard to concentrate. With the dead guy and all.”

Her dad ignored her sarcasm and left the living area, quickly entering the nearby bedroom. He saw her lying down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her face was red from crying.

“Oh, hey Jim,” she whispered, sitting up at her husband’s presence. 

“Pam, you okay?” Jim sat down next to her. “Cece told me someone died. I assumed it was a joke, but…”

“Remember Michael?” Pam said, wiping a tear from her cheek. 

“Unfortunately.”

“It was him. He was murdered by the Scranton Strangler. It wasn’t George Howard Skub after all.”

“What? Seriously? Where did you hear that from?”

“Dwight called me. He wanted me to be the first to know. I don’t know why. Jim, I think we should go back to Scranton. That’s where his funeral is going to be.”

“You mean for us to go _back_ to Scranton, with an 8 and 10-year-old, to a place where there’s an unknown murderer, just to pay respects to a former boss who sexually harassed you on a daily basis? Not to mention, I just came back from a business trip. Would it really be convenient?”

Pam rolled her eyes. “Of course it _sounds_ crazy when you put it that way… but come on. Michael spent his entire life trying to get us to hang out with him, and we never accepted. I don’t want us to abandon him again.”

“Okay, hey, we never abandoned him. He just wanted to be closer to us than he probably should have. We never did anything wrong.”

“I… I just don’t want… it’s silly. I just can’t bear the thought of Michael’s ghost showing up to his funeral and Jim and Pam aren’t there. Don’t tell me you never cared about him.”

“Of _course I care_ about Michael. Heck, I wouldn’t have even pursued you if it wasn’t for what he told me on the booze cruise 15 years ago. And I really never subscribed to the idea of ghosts, so I’m not sure what you’d be worried about.”

“What if no one from the office shows up?” Pam said with a tone of panic. “If I don’t go, I’m never gonna get the closure I need. I really think we should go back to Scranton… at least for a little bit. We haven’t been in years.”

***

Kelly Kapoor sighed as she looked at the array of clothing arranged in her closet, every shirt appearing to taunt her flawed ability to make a choice. She ran her fingers through her long black hair, the constant, choking feeling of an awaiting sob forcing itself into her throat. She didn’t know what was more pathetic - the fact that she officially spent four and a half hours staring at her closet, or the fact that she’d only dated three guys in the span of ten years and then some. 

Kelly didn’t even want to glance at a mirror at this point - her hair was greasy, her eyes were baggy, and her skin was far from perfect. On top of it all, Ryan just cheated on her again. It was, what, the seventh time? Eighth? She could never keep track. Oh well. The unpredictability of her emotions had, by itself, _become_ predictable, in a strange way. She almost guaranteed that even if she did start dating someone else, she would go straight back to Ryan again. He wasn’t good for her. She knew that. Everyone thought she didn’t, but she did. Just because you _know_ you have issues doesn’t mean you can fix them so easily. When are people gonna learn that it’s _always_ hard to let go of someone, regardless of their toxicity?

Kelly finally yanked a random top from its coat hanger, in a manner so harsh she almost tore it. Tears of anger flooded her eyes, her emotions of aggravation cleverly masking a deep, internal feeling of misery and guilt. She knew what she wanted. She wanted someone who would love her above all else, the kind of guy who would buy her flowers and take her to dinner, be her crying shoulder. She wanted her life to feel like a fairytale. It maybe would have been a lot less to ask if it wasn’t Ryan she wanted all these things from. Every single friend told her the exact same thing:

“He’s not good for you! Dump his ass!”

“You deserve _so_ much better, Kelly!”

“Ryan’s a jerk! Stop crying over him!”

Kelly wasn’t stupid. She might not know much about math, or history, or anything smart for that matter, but whatever. It didn’t take a genius to know that Kelly and Ryan were _not_ good together. But there are certain things that even though you can’t have them, you shouldn’t have them, and you most definitely won’t have them, you still will never stop _wanting_ them. And that’s something that her friends never understood.

Kelly pulled a pair of jeans out of her messy drawers, thoughts spinning around in her head a mile a minute. Her mind wandered to memories of her time in Scranton, where Pam would always bug her about how much of a jerk Ryan was, and how she should never have to settle for someone like _him._

 _Well, easy for her to say,_ she thought bitterly, pulling on her top. _She’s only had one real breakup in her life, and no one ever dumped her. Jim treats her like a fucking princess and God knows she doesn’t know shit about what I’m going through._

Kelly struggled to pull on her jeans, cursing under her breath. No doubt she’d put on a couple of pounds since she broke up with Ryan. 

“God, I hate myself,” she groaned, zipping up her jeans with difficulty as she walked out the room. This was the first time in days that she bothered to change out of her pajamas, and she wouldn’t have even done it now if she hadn’t absolutely needed to go out to get food.

Kelly gathered her hair into a messy bun and threw on a jacket, hardly willing to put any more effort into her appearance. She longed for someone to help her get the validation she needed - someone to see her in such a positive light that maybe, she herself would stop thinking so lowly of herself. Maybe, if just one person would say, “Kelly Kapoor, you look beautiful”, then she would feel just a little better. To be fair, at this point, she would take any attention she could get - before she grew old and no one would think of her as anything anymore. She was 40 years old already, and she had already planned to be married by now. There used to be streaks of days where she would look in the mirror and smile with confidence, eager to start another day of babbling anecdotes to her coworkers and flirting with Ryan. That was then. This was now. 

She walked out of her studio apartment, tucking stray strands of hair into her bun while slapping gloss onto her lips in a rushed manner. She walked straight across the street, her mind itching with the desire for someone to notice her forlorn feelings and fulfill her need for attention. Kelly fantasized about someone walking up to her and asking what was wrong, talking to her and comforting her. But strangers don’t do that. Not even Ryan would do that.

Kelly entered a small Starbucks by her apartment building, walking up to the counter to order her pumpkin spice latte. She was waiting for her drink when she heard her phone ringing in her pocket. Confused, she took it out and checked the caller. It was Pam.

“Hello? Pam?” she said, answering the phone. Pam hardly ever called her these days. It must be something important.

“Hey, Kelly…” Pam said over the phone. “Have you talked to anyone recently?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, Michael. Have you heard from Michael?”

Kelly shook her head, then realized that Pam couldn’t see that over the phone. “Oh, uh… no. Have you?”

Pam sighed. “I haven’t, but I just got a call from Dwight. I didn’t believe it when he told me, but I checked with everyone else, and it turns out it’s true.”

“Turned out _what_ was true? What are you talking about?”

“Well, he said-”

“Can you hold on a second?” Kelly cut Pam off. “That’s my latte.” She took her latte from the counter and took a casual sip. “So, what’s up?”

“I don’t know how to say this, so I just will. Michael was murdered.”

Kelly dropped her latte out of shock and it spilled on the ground while a few heads turned around to look at her. “What?” she asked with confusion.

“The Scranton Strangler killed Michael. That’s what Dwight told me, and the police confirmed it.”

“Oh my god,” Kelly said, picking up her latte from the floor. “That’s like, so sad.”

“Yeah. I’m planning on going to Scranton because that’s where the funeral is gonna be. You’re in Scranton right now, right?”

“I’m in Philadelphia. I might go to Scranton too. Does Ryan know?”

“Why would we tell him?” Pam said coldly. “Come _on,_ Kelly. He doesn’t define your life.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know,” Kelly said dismissively, hanging up immediately afterward. Why did Pam never understand her? Why couldn’t she just _accept_ that she loved Ryan, for once? Even if… well, he could never feel the same?

***

“It’s like the world just got a little darker,” Andy said with a tone of melancholy, staring out the window in the manager’s office of Dunder Mifflin, Scranton.

“It’s like the sky just grew black with the souls of the dead,” Dwight said, staring out the same window. “And ashes are falling from the sky, coating everything in darkness and despair. Like the Dementors. In Harry Potter.”

“Exactly like the Dementors,” Andy repeated. “Except a thousand times worse.”

“Dementors suck the soul out of you, Andy. You have to live your life as an empty shell without meaning, and you feel as if all happiness has gone from the world. What could possibly be worse than that?”

“Now is not the time to be a nerd, Dwight. The world as we know it is crumbling around us.”

“Andy, you don’t even work here and quite frankly I’m surprised I haven’t yet asked what you’re doing in my office. Do you even know what his favorite ice cream flavor was?”

“What his favorite ice cream flavor _was.”_

“That’s what I said,” Dwight said. “Idiot,” he whispered under his breath.

“Whatever. Is everyone coming to the funeral?”

“I don’t know. Holly says she just wants it to be a small ceremony, but I know that’s not what Michael would’ve wanted. I had to beg her just to have it here in Scranton. Where else would it be? Colorado? Holly doesn’t care about him, does she?”

“She thinks this is all about her, but it’s not,” Andy agreed.

“Absolutely. This is to honor _Michael.”_

“I was going to say it’s about the office, but that’s good too.”

Dwight mumbled something under his breath before he spoke. “Did you invite anyone, Andy?”

“Yeah, I called up a couple of guys from my old acapella group at Cornell to perform some songs there.”

“Oh, thanks for letting me know you went to Cornell, Andy. I had _no_ idea,” Dwight said with exaggerated sarcasm.

“Har har. It’s getting pretty dark out,” Andy observed.

“Yeah, it’s midnight. Good job, Andy.”

Andy sighed. “Time flies so fast. And before you know it, your life is gone in the blink of an eye. And you’re left to be just a meaningless page in the vast story of the infinite universe.”

“Not unless you become one of history’s most ruthless dictators,” Dwight pointed out.

“Well, is that gonna happen?”

“No, but…”

“That’s what I thought,” Andy sighed. “Why is this so hard?”

“That’s what she said,” Dwight said automatically.

“I miss that…” Andy said, a faraway look in his eyes. “I guess it’ll never be the same again, right?”

“No, it won’t.”

The pair sighed once more as they continued to stare out the window, their minds becoming more and more depressed as they dwelled on the memories of their deceased friend. Dwight couldn’t help but feel that Andy’s emotions were greatly exaggerated - after all, he never considered Andy and Michael to be close in any way, shape, or form. It was astonishing that Andy had the sheer audacity to be kissing up to someone even after they died. All Dwight wanted was for Andy to leave so he could mourn in peace, but he knew for a fact that this wouldn’t be an easy task. Andy would just begin crying hysterically and punch a hole in the wall that he already punched twice before.

 _I want to punch a hole in Andy,_ Dwight thought, looking up at Andy’s fake-depressed, stupid, punchable face. Dwight didn’t even consider the idea that this feeling was misdirected anger masking a mournful state of sadness or even depression. If there was anything he was absolute trash at, it was identifying his own emotions, and he was even worse at expressing them. However, Dwight was good at not letting his feelings get in the way of his goals.

 _I’m going to find out who the Scranton Strangler is,_ Dwight thought with determination. _I’m going to bring Michael’s killer to justice if it’s the last thing I do._

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before the pandemic happened. So let's just pretend like everyone's abiding by WHO protocol.


End file.
